The 9 PM Mathematical Torture Cell
People think growing up as the son of a premier underground crime lord is all about power, luxury cars, and people fearing your family name
Growing up as Rehman Dakait’s son meant experiencing a localized, daily psychological warfare campaign that culminated every single night at precisely 9PM
Forget the police raids. Forget the gang wars. The most horrific memory of my entire childhood was Class 5 Profit and Loss with THE Rehman Dakait™
At 8:59 PM, the entire Haveli would go dead silent Ammi and uzair chacha would look at me with pity and vanish The guards would step out of the house suddenly remembering they had somewhere important to be
Then, abbu would walk into the dining room, he would sit across from me. He wouldn’t slouch. He wouldn’t speak. He would just sit with his arms crossed, he would tilt his head down slightly, stare directly into my soul with those cold, unblinking, dark eyes which said "Give me a reason why not to have u permanently resided at the lyari general hospital 👺" instead of "let's learn arithmetics🤗"
This man might've dropped out of school early but when it came to calculations involving cash flow, interest, or margins he was a certified mathematical genius which made me believe that he could calculate the 15% extortion cut from three different shipping containers in his head while being chased by the LTF
Back to the main point, The chapter was Profit, Loss, and Discount I was staring at a word problem about a shopkeeper selling a bicycle at a 10% loss
My brain was completely fried.
10 year old Me: "if the cost price of the cycle is 2,500, we find the 10% by dividing by..."
Abbu: (A low, rhythmic rumble from his chest) "Abey oye bhenchod, divided by kyun? Nuksaan ho raha hai, dikh nhi rha tujhe!? gadhey ke bacche! Tera baap pura Lyari chala raha hai aur tu ek cycle pe do pacchis sau rupey ka hisab nahi laga pa raha?!"
Me: "Sorry! Sorry, abbu! We multiply! We multiply by 10.. fir-"
Before the word "fir" could even fully form in my vocal cords, the laws of physics would temporarily shatter
Now get this, my father doesn't just have hands he has dinner plate sized palms attached to thick, sausage fingers that had spent twenty years handling heavy weaponry and crushing human skulls like crunchy mango toffee
When he swung, it didn't feel like a slap. It felt like getting struck by a bag of wet cement coming straight for ur face like a missile
Abbu: (Slamming his fist on the table so hard the steel ruler jumped) "Ullu ke patthey! Saale muft khor! Agar ek dukaandar 2,500 ki cycle khareed ke loss pe bechta hai toh, Selling Price, cost price se KAM HOGA! Itni si baat tere is gende se bheje mein nahi ghusti?! Khuda ki kasam, agar agla jawab galat hua na, toh is belt se teri chamri udher dunga, BHUND KE ANDHE!"
By 10:00 PM, the copy's page was a crime scene
It was 10% math, 80% teardrops, and 10% smudged blue ink where my face had been violently slammed onto the table to "help me look closer at the numbers"
To this day, I cannot calculate a tip at a restaurant without my left ear ringing and having Vietnam war flashbacks
And the hypocrisy of it that By the time Faizal reached Class 8, Abbu had discovered candy crush on his phone and completely lost interest in academic supervision of his children
So Faizal basically got an educational free pass, while I was built in the trenches of WWII Germany
Tags:- @sher-rehman-baloch @seher-rehman-baloch @faizalbaloch @afortoru @majoriqbalahmedisi @aalamdudhsoda @donga-hu-mai @siyahidagoat @ajay-sanyal @radhika-sanyal @gehra-hua @yalinawithdaddyissues @jameelwithdaughterissues @shiranisahabkaexplosivepota @lyari-di-influenca @pallavi-sharma @mrs-vihaan-shergill @major-vihaan-shergill @cloudmast @misteriadare @kitty-minnieee @goldenharrysworld @lakshana-ke-lakshan @layinglowkey @twinblueflamee @poetry-beauty-love-writez @hereforfanfictionsfr @kajuuuukatliiiiii
andulkaphoto
theartofmadeline
kianamaiart
germansingergirl
dailybridgerton
izzy806
